


Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years

by yuraaa



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Because taylor has a song for everything, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Levi and Eren being dorks, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, hanji is done, taylor swift cause why not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuraaa/pseuds/yuraaa
Summary: Snippets of Levi and Eren’s life with Taylor Swift as background music
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	1. Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

> The one where it isn’t a date

_Took a deep breath in the mirror,_

_He didn’t like it when I wore high heels, but I do._

_Turned the lock, and put my headphones on._

_He always said he didn’t get this song, but I do._

* * *

Levi stares at his reflection, rubs a hand on his eye, as if he could rid the shadows of another sleepless night off his skin. He always looked especially pale in winter; his complexion in a competitive streak against the snow. Levi breathes. Tries to, at least. His lungs constrict uncomfortably, and he hates himself for acting like a teenager.

It’s been months since he and Mike had split, and although he wasn’t particularly hung up on the blond anymore, their breakup hadn’t been pretty.

Maybe it’s the way he constantly tapped his foot against the dinner table when eating that always made Levi feel like he was in the middle of an earthquake. Or how one of Mike’s eyebrows automatically staple themselves high each time Levi drank, with his fingers supporting the cup through holding the rim. Levi was always on the verge of shaving them off.

Levi looked at his knee high winter boots that has just enough heel to give his height a little push without looking like he was trying too hard. Mike hated the fabric. Said he could have gotten Levi something better at the store his aunt owned, which he did. They never saw sunlight. Levi had never worn them once.

Eyes Closed by The Narrative played softly in his phone, as he made his way to his car. This was his winter song. He didn’t have synesthesia, but he’s always associated it with the color blue. The shade his room becomes when the five a.m. light gently filters through his window, where everything is quiet, and he is conscious, but not quite awake enough to think. Mike said he didn’t get it. That it was too sad.

And maybe that had been the problem. Something was always too much, too little. The expectation to change always lingered—followed them like a haunting. There was love, but there was no acceptance. He never did like the bitter taste of compromise.

Levi grips the stirring wheel, takes one last look at the text that said ‘ _See you :)_ ’, and drives.

* * *

_Walked in expecting you’d be late,_

_But you got here early, and you stand and wait; I walk to you._

_You pull my chair out and help me in,_

_And you don’t know how nice that is, But I do._

Levi grits his teeth, whether at the cold nipping at his skin, or at the caffeine-induced anxiety that stemmed from thinking two cups of coffee before a goddamn coffee date ( _it’s not a date_ , his mind supplies unhelpfully), because he’s the kind of idiot who apparently has a palpitation kink.

He pushes his scarf further up so he can nuzzle his nose on it, turning to the clean scent of fabric softener for comfort, as he clicks his phone open to look at the time. He still has fifteen minutes to convince himself that no, it is not possible to self-combust, especially when he’s ankle-deep in New York’s mid-winter snow, just so he’d have an excuse to turn tail, and run back to the safety of his apartment. _Oh, what a shame_.

A ping from his phone interrupts his inner turmoil, and paranoia wraps an arm around his shoulder. ‘ _It’s him, and I’m betting it’s an I’m sorry I couldn’t make it text. He’ll say it’s a family emergency but anyone knows a “family emergency” only fifteen minutes before a date (it’s not a date), is really just code for ‘You looked good under the dim lights of a dingy, old bar, and the influence of second-hand smoke holding hands with the result of ten straight shots of tequila, but now that I’m sober I realized you best stay in the dark, because you’re really just a modernized satan who makes too much toilet jokes._ ’ Well, fuck him. All men do is lie.

Levi almost bashes his phone on the brick wall he’s hiding behind when he saw that it was just a text from Hanji.

**From: Shitty Glasses**

_If you bail, I’m going to spit on your tea while you’re not looking, and I’ll enjoy every minute of your paranoid ass not knowing when I’ll do it, or if I finally did :)_

He lets out his signature ‘tch’ before pocketing back his phone. Taking a deep breath, he makes his way inside the café, armed with the conviction that if the brat doesn’t show up at exactly 2:00, he’s going to get the fuck out of there, where Hanji can pin the blame on his distaste for tardiness, and they can’t say he didn’t try.

Where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee would normally be a source of tranquility, his stomach now feels like the sea with the titanic going for another round of sinking, and if he starts letting up gas like a deflating balloon, he’s going to gut someone, most likely himself for agreeing to this stupid thing in the first place, but he’s taking Hanji down with him for somehow convincing him that this wasn’t the disaster he knows it will be.

He must have been standing around like a lost idiot before someone calls his name.

“Levi!” He turns around at the sound of the voice, and of all the times that Erwin’s theory that he probably had ice in his veins instead of blood could have proven itself true, it chooses to do it now.

He’s either having a stroke, or a seizure, because he was frozen, and motherfucker lights from old, dingy bars really don’t do anyone justice. Not when Eren looks like heaven and hell just had a love child, with the way his black, turtleneck sweater hugs his body like an old lover; his jeans, first degree murder in the form of clothing, because the way they fit should be illegal. And those eyes, _oh those eyes_ , with the color of the Earth that can only be seen when viewed from outer space, are looking at him with such a happy glint, Levi thinks his vision must be made of stars.

And because he apparently left his brain at home, his body thankfully moves with a mind of its own, albeit mechanically, and he somehow makes his way to Eren. He accidentally bumps his hip on a chair, and it takes everything in him not to smash it on a table, because he has the grace of a toddler _why why why_. Levi opts for a curse under his breath instead.

Eren stands up, pulls his chair out for him, and gestures for him to sit, and he almost felt sad that the last time anyone pulled a chair out for him was in third grade, where Foot-face Michael pulled it as a prank, making him fall flat on his ass, and in retaliation, he hit him on the head with a water bottle. It’s not his greatest war story, he knows.

He stutters—chokes—a ‘Thank you’ as he sat down, and Eren flashes him a smile.

Oh God, Levi was going to die, and they haven’t even ordered yet.

* * *

_And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid._

_I think it’s strange that you think I’m funny ‘cause he never did._

_I’ve been spending the last eight months,_

_Thinking all love ever does is break, and burn, and end._

_But on a Wednesday, in a café, I watched it begin again._

After the customary tug-of-war on who gets to pay, and Eren whining like a puppy forces him to surrender, the brunet returns with a tray of his Long Black, and Eren’s unoriginal Cappuccino. He spots two slices of Strawberry Cheesecake, one of which he didn’t order. He doesn’t particularly have a sweet tooth, but it’s free food so what the hell.

Once he hands Levi his cup, Eren scratches the back of his neck, and gives him a sheepish smile. “I haven’t apologized properly for bolting so quickly the other night at the bar. I really wanted to stay, I hope you know that.”

Levi quirks an eyebrow. “So why didn’t you?”

“We went there because my friend was getting over a breakup.” Eren chuckles when Levi rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. How cliché. But yeah, when we were talking I spotted his ex, and if I didn’t get him out of there before they saw each other, well, I really didn’t want to be sitting front row while the apocalypse happened.”

Eren bites his lip.

Levi wants a taste.

Levi wants to fucking slap himself.

“I’m really glad I got your number before all that. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d agree to come.”

Levi puts down his cup, and hums thoughtfully. “I almost didn’t.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I was held at gunpoint.” Levi deadpans, making Eren laugh; his eyes crinkle at the sides. He almost spills his drink, and there must be something wrong with him, because people never find Levi funny, but Eren’s joy sounds like coins dropping on wishing wells, like wind chimes clinking softly on doors when someone comes home, and Levi’s mouth quirk up slightly in return.

Because people never find Levi funny, but it’s okay as long as Eren does.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re still hung up on your firetruck.” Eren grins at him mischievously, but Levi only cocks his head because what the fuck was he talking about.

“What firetruck?” He asks, frowning, but then Eren mirrors the knit of his eyebrows, as if Levi was the one who was weird for not understanding.

“Oh no, you don’t remember, do you? I thought for sure you did, but maybe we were too drunk to notice we were having two separate conversations.” Eren groans miserably.

“I remember you as the brat who thought offering to hold my hand because it looked heavy was a good pickup line.” Eren wails at the memory, and Levi smirks, because he’s a sadist. “But your elementary level flirting aside, I don’t know what the fuck you’re on, kid.”

“Oh wow, uhm, okay, so I was the cliché kid who moved at the apartment next to yours when I was six, and you were ten, only to move away the year after.” Eren supplies, but Levi still has a scowl on his face so he continues. “I gave you cookies the first time we met and you said the chocolate chip looks like an expired pimple.”

Levi squints at him, rakes his eyes at the messy, brown mop on top of his head. The strands look soft; the wayward tangles, inviting. He wonders if they’re as silky as they appear, or if the lights just complement him kindly.

“I broke my arm during summer, and my mom almost had an aneurysm, because you drew a dick on my cast and insisted that it was a rocket, and everyone’s mind was just dirty.”

Levi’s eyes settle on the mole on his jaw, and his finger twitched, wanting to poke it. He watched it move on the stretch of Eren’s skin as he talked, and he wonders if Eren will allow him to find others, like he was on a treasure hunt.

“I blew the candle on your birthday cake, and you didn’t speak to me for a week.”

Eren’s neck is long, and Levi’s tongue wants to make the journey from the dip of his throat to the back of his ear. He clears his throat, sips on his coffee, thinks about flagging down a waiter for a pitcher of water, because he was apparently thirsty as fuck.

“I was being bullied on the first couple days of class. The scrawny, new kid with the weird eyes, who had a Patrick Star backpack of all things. One day, you saw them tearing my stuff, throwing my books, and all that shit. You only knew me as the kid who tried to poison you with pimple cookies, as you called them, but you came running to my rescue. There were three of them, but you were so brave, and even as a ten year old you had quite the reputation. You were like a little sailor, with how you cussed them out, and I would have laughed if I wasn’t about to pee my pants back then.” Eren smiles at him softly. “You bought me ice cream. It was the sweetest ice cream I’ve ever had in my life even until now.”

And Levi looks at him, like he was seeing him for the first time. He remembers the little boy who clung to him like an oversized puppy, with those big, green eyes that shine like jades in the sunlight.

He remembers making him cry when he asked Levi to marry him and he said no, because what the fuck marriage was icky and gross and it was for old people. They’re stuck at the hip now, anyway, so what difference does it make? But then Eren looked _so_ sad, with tears like the drizzle before a storm. And Levi was freaking out, because Eren being sad felt like someone reached into his chest, and squeezed their fingers around his lungs.

So he said, fine, okay, I’ll marry you, Eren. But some time after Saturday, because mom still has to take me to the dentist.

“Holy shit,” Levi says, looking at Eren with wide eyes. “You stole my goddamn firetruck!”

* * *

_And we walked down the block to my car,_

_And I almost brought him up._

_But you start to talk about the movies that your family watches every single Christmas,_

_And I won’t talk about that._

_And for the first time, what’s past is past._

Levi throws his keys at the counter, walks straight into his room, and flings himself on the bed.

He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. His hair feels a bit wet from the stray snow that lingered as Eren walked him to his car. Any day he’d be disgusted, but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment, because his heart is too full. So take that Mike‘ _Your heart is only good for pumping blood, because you’re a soulless bastard who’s too afraid of commitment that you push everyone who cares about you away, Levi_ ’ Zacharias!

He places a hand on his chest, and wills himself to calm down. It’s inevitable, but for now he won’t overthink it.

Levi reaches for the paper bag Eren had given him before they parted ways—one which he insisted heavily that Levi not open until he reached home. Levi rolled his eyes at the juvenile request, but Eren, the little fuck, just beams at him. And _Jesus_ , does he never get tired of being so bright all the damn time.

He carefully picks at the stapler holding the top of the bag closed, irritated at the way the thin metal pinches against his finger. He is tempted to just rip the thing open, but he doesn’t, because he’s not a fucking savage.

He takes out whatever’s inside, and blinks at it for few seconds before it sinks in, and his mind is functioning again.

In his hand was a firetruck. Its red paint peeling at the sides with age. A wheel was missing, and in its place was a tiny roll of a half empty scotch tape. He turns it over, and as expected, a faded dragonball sticker whose orange has now become a pale yellow is still grossly in contrast with the truck’s black underside. Beside it was Levi’s name scrawled with the elegance of a ten year old, which had now been stricken through with a sharpie. In bigger, bolder letters, Eren’s name is spelled out.

Levi puts a hand on his mouth. His shoulders shake.

Levi laughs.


	2. It’s Nice to Have A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Levi is ten and Eren is six

_School bell rings, walk me home  
Sidewalk chalk covered in snow  
Lost my gloves, you give me one_

Maybe the kids in school call it a crush, because he feels it like an earthquake in his bones, and somewhere in his ribcage his heart is stuck beneath the rubble of a collapse. Levi looks at the brown-haired boy talking animatedly beside him, his hands flinging in weird gestures; chest puffed up like he always had something to prove. 

“—And she said I was dumb because Math was a piece of cake, and I said _she_ was the dumb one because Math is a bunch of numbers that sort of make me want to cry, and there’s no cake at all!” Eren rambles on, and Levi makes a noise on the back of his throat that kind of sounds like the startled cry of a puppy when you accidentally step on its tail, because he can’t believe these words are actually coming out of Eren’s mouth what the hell was he talking about. And he feels himself die a bit inside, because he had just been thinking about how crushes are stupid, because Eren is stupid, but apparently, so is Levi because he has a stupid crush on stupid Eren of all stupid people. 

But if anyone ever asks him, he’d say the queasy feeling he gets in his stomach when Eren looks at him like he hung the Moon is probably just indigestion.

It’s become custom for them to walk home together, even when Eren’s classes finish quicker because he was a few grades lower than him. Eren always waits for him at the sandbox near his classroom, and Levi always scolds him when he gets sand all over his uniform, which is a complete waste of vocal cords, because Eren never listens, and only shows up with more sand on his skin the next day.

Thankfully, winter has come, and Eren opts to linger in the school cafeteria where the lunch lady gives him a small cup of free hot chocolate when he bats his eyes at her.

“Oi, Eren. Where the hell are your gloves?” Levi asks him with a scowl, when he noticed Eren shivering, his arms crossed, hands tucked in his armpits. Eren lets out a whine, because he always feel small whenever Levi uses that tone even though they’re practically the same height now, much to Levi’s dismay. 

“I don’t know! I swear I sticked them in my bag yesterday when I got home, but now it’s gone.” He says sadly, sticking out his bottom lip as an attempt to win over sympathy. 

“Your mom’s gonna kill you. Didn’t you just get those on Christmas?” Levi scoffs. 

“She won’t know, if you don’t tell!” 

Levi rolls his eyes. Ever since Eren came barging into his life with those god-awful cookies, he’s been rolling his eyes so much, he honestly won’t be surprised if one of these days they actually stay rolled. “It’s not like she won’t notice you freezing your fingers off.”

Eren grumbles something, his words muffled by the scarf wrapped around his neck that was just a couple of sizes too big. Levi sighs, and takes off his left hand glove. The exposure stings his skin, and he wiggles his fingers a bit to get some kind of friction. He elbows Eren gently on the ribs to catch his attention. 

“Here.” Levi offers the lone glove, while Eren blinks at him owlishly. He sighs when the boy makes no move to take it from him. Levi snatches his hand, fits the glove on it snuggly. Thank goodness it’s the kind that has adjustable straps, he thinks. Eren marvels at it, as he flexes his fingers to test the fit. 

“Thank you, Levi!” Eren smiles.

And you see that’s the thing. Eren was often times stupid. Half the things that come out of his lips, Levi would rather physically throw on a waste basket if he could. He’s a slob. He eats ice cream with his whole face, instead of just his mouth. He does his homework last minute, and somehow it’s Levi’s fault for not telling him to do it sooner. He gets into fights so easily, Levi’s convinced he has them formally on schedule, rather than due to the temperament of a six-year old. And if he’s in trouble, then obviously Levi is automatically too. He’s so tempted to just keep Eren on a leash.

But then he smiles. And suddenly, all of that is okay. And Levi’s hand wants to fly up his throat, because it feels like someone shoved a firework down his lungs, and Eren’s happiness is the trigger that lights it up. Now everything is an explosion.

“What about the other one?” Eren asks, lifting his hand that remained bare. Levi looks at it thoughtfully for a minute, until Eren shouts “I know!” before lacing his unclothed fingers with Levi’s own. 

Levi is a moth to a flame. The planet closest to the Sun. And he is so, so warm. 

* * *

_“Wanna hang out?”  
Yeah, sounds like fun.  
Video games, you pass me a note.  
Sleeping in tents.  
It’s nice to have a friend._

  
Levi pushes off Eren’s feet from his lap, the way he’s been doing for the past half hour, because Eren is a little shit who has no regard for personal space, nor the basic social decorum to know that treating people like a foot rest isn’t polite. Neither is it hygienic, for that matter. It’s a Saturday and they’ve been lounging around his couch for the good part of the morning, playing video games. His eyes are starting to burn a bit, but Eren locks his legs around his arm whenever he tries to stand up, and Levi lists the reasons in his head why throwing the controller at him isn’t a good idea.

“Hey, Levi.”

“Mm?”

“Let’s go camping.”

Levi looks at him incredulously, and he wonders if hitting him with the controller isn’t such a bad idea after all. “You’re joking, right? Who the hell goes camping during the rainy season? I don’t know about you but I’m not making the trip all the way to the forest, just to end up like a drowned cat.”

Eren hits pause on their game, as he rearranges himself on the couch, crawling over to Levi like a caterpillar, and whines. “But Leviiii,” Eren drags his name for as long as he can, until he runs out of breath.

“But no,” Levi huffs, pushing away the brown mop of head that keeps bumping itself on the side of his leg.

“But it’s going to be so much fun! We can do barbecue, and swim in a river—We can catch fish! And we can stargaze! Please, Levi.”   
  
Levi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with a finger. He absolutely hates it when Eren gets like this because the brat is relentless when it comes to getting what he wants, especially when he looks like a kicked puppy. Levi doesn’t even like dogs, but more often than not, Eren gets his way no matter. 

“My mom won’t allow it, and neither will yours. So just drop it before you get us in trouble.”

And because he’s a brat, Eren huffs angrily at being denied, and repositions himself again on the other end of the couch to sulk. Levi pushes his toes at him, and Eren swats it away. Not one to be ignored, if he couldn’t throw the controller then he’d use the pillow instead. It hits Eren square in the face, and Levi smirks at the boy’s lips pushing forward in a pout..

“Tell you what, we have a tent somewhere and we can just make a fort. You’d have to do all the work, though, because you’re the one who wants all this hassle anyway.”

Eren is instantly all up in his face, vibrating with glee. He reminds Levi of a chipmunk. “Really?! Yes, yes! We’re going to have so much fun! We can order pizza, and I have lights in my room that we can put up, and we can just go out the balcony for the stargazing bit. Can we do it tonight?!” 

“Go ask your mom first, idiot.”

After gaining their parents’ approval, Levi takes out the tent from the back closet. He has a handkerchief tied around his face, covering its lower half, and he grumbles irritatedly as he watches the swirl of dust lingering in the air. He scowls at the offending particles, until Eren comes out of nowhere, tugging at his arm, asking him to hurry up. Levi flicks him on the forehead to shut him up.

More dust permeates the air, as they unroll the old tent, making Eren sneeze. Levi scolds him for not listening when he told him to get a mask to avoid inhaling all the dirt. Eren answers him with another sneeze, and Levi wants to throttle him.  
  
As they set it up, Levi spots a tiny hole on it which looks like a bite of who-knows-what, and he feels an organ or two shut down. He then proceeds to scrub, and spray the entire tent with alcohol, and he would have gone through an entire bottle if only Eren hadn’t snatched it away from him. 

They take out blankets, and pillows, and as much as Levi tried to arrange it into something decent, Eren keeps piling it into what is now a mountain of fluff, as he calls it, but the disapproval dies in Levi’s mouth before it comes out, when he saw Eren rolling around his makeshift cloud, giggling. 

Levi’s mom gives them a box of pizza to eat, and he shoves a box of tissues to Eren because Levi refuses to sleep anywhere that his grubby, little hands smear with grease. 

It’s not like this is any different from the other sleepovers they’ve had. They’ve set the tent up in front of the television, so it’s either watching whatever anime is playing on Animax, or playing a video game that takes up most of their night. Eren is on his third slice of pizza, and Levi can’t fathom where he’s putting it all, but he threatens Eren that he’ll be sleeping in the toilet if he overeats, and pukes. 

Sometime around ten o’clock, Eren drags him to the balcony, pointing at the stars excitedly. There wasn’t much of them out at the moment, and considering how polluted the New York skyline is, they’re lucky to be even spotting a few. 

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Eren asks, his line of sight now focused on the cars passing by below, as he tucks his chin on his arm folded on the railing.

Levi considers the question. Honestly, at this point all he really wants is to actually grow. Eren’s already up to his forehead, and that knowledge never fails to annoy him. His mom is an office worker, and his dad is a civil servant. Nothing too exciting, and nothing that Levi wants to be in spite of the offered stability. But then again, as far as dreams go, he doesn’t really have any at the moment that he can say he’ll regret never becoming. It’s too much of a loaded question for just a bunch of kids, anyway. 

Eren doesn’t wait long for his answer, carrying on with the conversation. “I want to be a fireman! When I do, I can finally go down on the swirly thing. Mom says we can’t get one to put in the house, so I guess I have no choice.” He says with a nonchalant shrug, and Levi can’t help but laugh.

“That’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.” Levi says, and Eren hits him on the arm.

“I’m serious!” Eren goes quiet for a few seconds before gazing up at him through his lashes. “So can I have your firetruck?”

“Absolutely not.” Levi says with a straight face, even though his lips are threatening to curl, at Eren’s complaining wails. What a mischievous, little brat. All this sudden talk about plans for the future, when really Eren just wants his dirty hands on his firetruck. He really is becoming a bad influence on the kid. Levi decides to give him the truck at the end of the school year.

Eren goes back to looking at the expanse of the Universe above them, when he finally gets tired of coaxing Levi to give him the toy. 

“You know, dad told me once about the North Star, and he said people use it when they get lost. I don’t really know how, though. But I think it’s like the time the power went out, and you kept pointing the flashlight at me so I can come back from the toilet?” Eren scrunches his nose, unsure of his train of thought, and Levi cant’t help but chuckle fondly at him. He gently tugs on Eren’s hair, rolling a few strands in between his fingers.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, you brat.” 

Eren looks at him questioningly with those big, green eyes of his. “Why not?”

Levi leans his elbow on the railing, placing a hand under his chin, while he continues to play with Eren’s tresses absentmindedly. “I don’t know, I hate science.”

Eren stares at him, his eyebrows knotting as he thinks. Levi likes looking at him like this; silent determination stirring in his eyes, making them even more vibrant than they already are. He loves that Eren is so transparent, because his eyes are honest crystals that can never hide what he’s feeling. Levi could care less about stars. He has the entire galaxy right here. 

“Maybe it’s just you, Levi.” Eren murmurs quietly.

“What is?”

“The North Star.” Eren stresses, as if Levi was just supposed to understand him with that.

“The hell are you going off about?” Levi raises an eyebrow at him when Eren starts to fidget, and his cheeks are obviously rosier even under dim lighting.

“Because I have no sense of direction, so you always walk home with me. And you complain about my hands being sweaty, but you still hold them anyway when your Mom takes us with her to the grocery store, because I used to always end up lost in the aisles.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I don’t know, maybe like guardian angels, people get their own North Stars so they don’t get lost.” 

Levi doesn’t know much about stars, only that they’re big, exploding balls of gas that only look pretty from afar. There is danger in their pretense, and he has no time to study things that’s all beauty but have no soul. Not when Eren looks at him with such unrepentant candor, his way with words clumsy, and loosely stitched, but always honest. Always with childlike wonder. And he remembers his mother warning him of the consequences that come with looking straight into the sun, but she never prepared him to be in the face of brighter things, because now Eren is looking him dead in the eyes, and he burns.

“And I’m saying that you’re mine.” 

* * *

_Light pink sky up on the roof,  
Sun sinks down, no curfew.  
Twenty questions, we tell the truth.  
You’ve been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too.  
Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand._

“Mom says we’re moving to California.” Eren says in a hushed voice. Levi doesn’t know which is louder, the tip of his pencil breaking, or the sound of his heart dropping into his stomach. He remembers learning about the bombing of Hiroshima. How the blast wiped everything so quickly into nothingness. Levi is afraid to breathe, because if he does, his insides will turn into the aftermath of the same war. 

“When?” He asks, trying to level his voice, but it breaks at the end anyway. His eyes feel hot, and his vision is starting to blur, but he refuses to cry.

“Next week. It’s because dad has to be stationed at another hospital.”

They’re both quiet. Which is unnerving, because with Eren in the room nothing is supposed to be quiet. It’s supposed to be messy crayons littering the floor, Cheeto dust coating fingers, cheating each other at video games, trying to watch anime without subtitles, pillow fights, turning blankets into capes, fighting for the last slice of pizza, Levi spraying everything with alcohol, Eren leaving fingerprints on his living room’s glass table. It should be laughter, and color, and making future plans, because they were supposed to have time.

But they don’t. Not anymore.

The clock hanging on the wall ticks in mockery, and Levi wants to throw it out the window.

“Say something, Levi.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.” Eren pleads. Anything but this silence. Anything to drown out the sound of the ground splitting beneath their feet—the sound of the distance threatening to form even when they’re right next to each other. Anything that doesn’t feel like you’re pulling away from me, Eren thinks.

But Levi’s throat constricts, and he almost chokes when he swallows the lump in his throat, because it doesn’t matter what he says. California is still hours, and miles away. And he just lost the chance to grow up with Eren, because _holy shit_ , California is hours, and miles away, and he hasn’t even taught Eren how to ride a bike yet. Hasn’t even bought him a nightlight so he’d stop leaving the television on when sleeping, because he’s too much of a baby to admit that he’s afraid of the dark. Hasn’t even given him the firetruck that’s readily waiting in his bottom closet where Eren won’t see. 

Because he was supposed to give it to him by the end of the school year. Except Eren won’t _be_ here by the end of the school year. And _oh god, oh god_ , they won’t go to high school together. Who’s going to stop him from getting into fights? Who’s going to fight alongside him when he actually _gets_ in them? They will never be able to sit on the bus with each other for school trips. There will be no all-nighter sleepovers for tests, even though it will probably be Eren who’ll do most of the cramming. And it’s cheesy, and stupid, and probably not as good as they show on tv, but they’ll never be able to go to prom together. He’ll never be Eren’s first dance. Hell, he’ll never be Eren’s first anything.

Eren’s going to make so many stupid decisions, and Levi won’t be there to witness any of it, because California will always be hours, and miles away, no matter how much he wishes for it not to be.

So Levi says nothing. Just lets Eren hold his hand. Lets him hide his face on Levi’s shoulder as his shirt soaks his sadness.

Levi doesn’t say anything. Can’t say anything.

Because Levi is crying too. 


End file.
